rown up the sponge and fled. Please make friends with Lady
Tristram of Blent.--H. T."

It was enough. What need of further witness? And if there had been, the
principal criminal had confessed and the lips of his accomplices were
unsealed.

For a while nobody spoke. Then Neeld, leaning forward to the table
again, began to explain and excuse his silence, to speak of the hard
case he was in, of the accidental and confidential character of his
knowledge. Neither Mina nor her uncle even appeared to heed him. Iver
seemed to listen patiently and courteously, but his mind too was
distracted, and he did not cease fidgeting with Harry Tristram's letter
and referring ever and again to its brief sufficient message.

"I dare say I was wrong. The position was very difficult," pleaded
Neeld.

"Yes, yes," said Iver in an absent tone. "Difficult no doubt, Neeld;
both for you and Mina. And now he has--he has given up the game himself!
Or was his hand forced?"

"No," flashed out Mina, restored in a moment to animation, her fighting
instincts awake again. "He'd never have been forced. He must have done
it of his own accord."

"But why?" Again he returned to the letter. "And why does he write to
you?"

"Because he knew I knew about it. He didn't know that Mr Neeld did."

"And this--this Lady Tristram of Blent?" Iver's voice was hesitating and
conscious as he pronounced the name that was to have become his
daughter's.

Again the pink-ribboned _Deus_ made entry on the scene, to give the
speaker a more striking answer.

"A lady to see you, ma'am. Miss Gainsborough."

The three men sprang to their feet; with a sudden wrench Mina turned her
chair round toward the door. A tall slim girl in black came in with a
quick yet hesitating step.

"Forgive me, Madame Zabriska. But I had to come. Harry said you were his
friend. Do you know anything about him? Do you know where he is?" She
looked at the men and blushed as she returned their bow with a hurried
recognition.

"No, I haven't seen him. I know nothing," said Mina.

"The letter, Mina," Duplay reminded her, and Mina held it out to Cecily.

Cecily came forward, took and read it. She looked again at the group,
evidently puzzled.

"He doesn't say where he's gone," she said.

"You are----?" Iver began.

"I'm Cecily Gainsborough. But I think he means me when he says Lady
Tristram of Blent."

"Yes, he must mean you, Miss Gainsborough."

"Yes, because last night he told me--it w